


Let's Do It

by captainfreezerburn



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Post-Serum, Pre-Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:11:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1715090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainfreezerburn/pseuds/captainfreezerburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky always loved to dance</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Do It

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so yeah, enjoy

As soon as the needle hit the record, Steve was back in their dump of an apartment in 1943. Bucky was bored, again, and cleared away his clothes that lay on the floor. Steve knew what was coming. “Bucky, for the last time, no. I’m not dancing.” He wasn’t in the mood. He’d had another rejection for enlisting. That made it number four. Bucky could see the pain on his friend’s face, removing the grin from his own. “C’mon it’ll be fun, I promise. You don’t want to take a girl dancin’ and not know what to do, so I’ll teach you.” Bucky walked over and took Steve’s hand, leading him away from the small table to the space he’d cleared. 

“Bucky, I-” He was cut off by a pleading look from the older man. It was obvious there was something more to this than just a desire to teach him, but he knew better than to ask. Bucky quickly hid back behind his mask of easy going charm, the one that only Steve could ever see through. 

“You know how much my mom loved that record player and it breaks my heart to see it just sittin’ there, so we’re dancin’ whether you like it or not, Stevie.” He smiled at Bucky’s feigned heartbreak and let him drag him to the makeshift dance floor. 

“You’re a jerk, you know that Buck.” Steve grinned at the genuine smile blossoming on the other man’s face. “Yeah, and you’re a punk now quit stallin’ its playing my song.”

It was an old record since his parents hadn’t been able to afford any new ones after the ‘30’s. Bucky didn’t really mind, they were filled with memories for him. His parents dancing in the evening, his mother singing to him, teaching him to dance, even his mother trying to get a very shy Steve to dance on one of the many occasions he stayed the night. Cole Porter had been one of her favourite musicians and that passion had transferred to her son.

“Okay, kid, just follow my lead.” Bucky placed Steve’s left hand on his shoulder, keeping a hold on his right. “I’m not a kid.” Steve muttered, looking down as Bucky placed a hand on his hip. “Well, would you prefer it if I called you a dame?” Steve’s head snapped back up as he glared at the taller man, causing his grin to widen.

“Alright, alright, just watch my feet. Once you get the footwork down you’re pretty much there.” Bucky started waltzing slowly, laughing softly and tightening his grip as Steve tripped over his feet. “Relax pal, you’ll get it. Just do what I do and count in threes.” Bucky felt some of the tension leave Steve’s body as he fell into the rhythm of the music. Steve leaned in ever so slightly as Bucky started singing softly in his ear. “The dame’s really go for that,” he said. “That and eye contact. You can’t spend the whole time lookin’ at your feet.” Steve raised his eyes to meet Bucky’s soft gaze.

Bucky had been craving to have Steve in his arms for weeks, and finally there he was. There was only so many times he could sling his arm over Steve’s shoulders as they walked along the street before people would start to talk, and it wasn’t cold enough for him to curl into him at night and say it was to keep Steve from getting pneumonia again. He couldn’t kid himself that the cared for Steve as a brother anymore. He knew he was so much more than that. The way the dull light shined off his golden hair and softened his pale blue eyes always made him wonder how Steve had such trouble with women. He could – and often did – talk to girls for hours about him, but whenever they saw him they were always disappointed. So what if he wasn’t as big as the other guys, he was easily the kindest and bravest man Bucky had ever met. He always inspired Bucky to be a good man but he seemed to be the only person that looked close enough to see how great he was. 

Closing his eyes and lowering his head, he slid his hand from Steve’s hip to the small of his back, pulling him in closer. He felt Steve’s grip tighten and his breathing hitch. For a moment, Bucky thought maybe he’d pushed too far, until he felt the man in his arms relax and lean his head against his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief and rested his chin on Steve’s head. He could’ve sworn he heard him laugh softly and a blissful grin found its way onto Bucky’s face. Steve’s hand moved from its position on Bucky’s shoulder to rest on his bicep, thin fingers curling into his shirt. 

Moving to rest his cheek on Steve’s head, Bucky started singing along like he had done so many times before. Steve joined in for the chorus, harmonising with Bucky like it was second nature. 

“Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.”

And then it hit him like a ton of bricks. That’s exactly what Steve had done. Fallen for the tough guy with the heart of gold who, for some reason, continued to get him out of fights and finish them. The tall, dark and handsome heartbreaker. He knew how foolish it was for him to feel that way for Bucky, ladies man extraordinaire. Even if by some stroke of luck Bucky felt the same way, it was still illegal. 

He gripped Bucky tighter with the revelation, a motion that was copied by Bucky. They were pressed tightly against each other, fitting together perfectly. “Hey, relax. You’re doin’ great. The dames would be linin’ up if they knew you could dance like this.” Steve sighed against his chest. “No, Bucky, they only ever line up for you.” Bucky pulled back, moving both his hands to rest on Steve’s shoulders. “Well they don’t know what they’re missin’.” The joy had drained from the moment and both their faces, replaced with worry on Bucky’s. Steve refused to meet his eyes, willing himself to keep his tears at bay.

“Stevie, hey, Steve. Look at me. C’mon, pal, what’s wrong?” Bucky placed a hand on Steve’s jaw, forcing him to look in his eyes. He could see the glassy look in the pale blue ones that met his own, confused by the sudden change in mood. “Are you okay? Is it because I mentioned dames? Look, you just need to wait for the right one then you’ll be all set.” Steve couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped his throat. Bucky’s grip tightened. “What? Are you scared I’m gonna leave?” Steve swallowed, Bucky took it as a yes and let out a shaky laugh. “Man, you ain’t gotta worry. No dame, alive or dead, could make me leave you. I told you before, I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.” 

Steve let out a shaky breath with a smile, curling into Bucky’s chest and clutching his shirt. Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man, the two of them standing motionless in the middle of the floor. Bucky pressed a kiss into Steve’s hair. “You can’t keep doin’ that, you know. You got me real worried.” He sighed, moving a hand to cradle the back of Steve’s head. “Don’t ever think like that, Stevie.” He was blinking back his own tears now. “I’d never pick a dame over you.” 

Steve stilled at the words. Could they mean what he thought? Maybe. Was he being overly optimistic? Probably. But he could feel the emotion behind Bucky’s words, as well as hear it. They were spoken with pure conviction. He pulled back just enough to see the way Bucky was looking at him. The same way he’d seen his father look at his mother all those years ago. The same way he’d seen Bucky’s parents gaze at each other.

His heart rate picked up, his breath catching in his throat. Bucky’s eyes flicked down to his lips and back up. He could feel Bucky’s heart pounding through his shirt. Steve couldn’t breathe. Steve literally couldn’t breathe. His asthma had the worst timing possible. He let go of Bucky, cursing his lungs and doubling over in an effort to make them work again. After getting over the initial shock of the way Steve had looked up at him, Bucky went straight to his usual routine for when Steve had an attack. He gently rubbed his back, speaking sweetly through it and reminding him to just breathe. 

As Steve sat recovering at the table with a glass of water, Bucky turned the record player off. “C’mon pal, it’s gettin’ late.” Steve nodded and got ready for bed. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, laughing a little as he let out a slow breath. They’d been so close, so stupid. Now he knew what was missing when he danced with girls. He knew what the other guys felt when they talked about having their girl in their arms. He knew what he couldn’t have. 

He crawled into bed a little after Steve, noticing when Steve settled a little closer to him than usual but making no comment. They never spoke about anything that happened that night.

That was only a few days before Bucky enlisted and became Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Steve felt a flourish of pride whenever he heard the title, but he was aware Bucky was leaving him, just like he promised to never do. He swore he was coming back. But he didn’t, did he? 

A skip in the track jerked him back into present day. 1943 was over 70 years in the past. Everything was different to what it had been like that night. Steve was no longer the 5’4” weakling he was back then. He was Captain America, the 6’2” super soldier. He’d been to war, saved the world, crashed into the Atlantic and woken up in the digital age. He woke up believing the one person he truly loved was dead. But he wasn’t. Bucky didn’t die when he fell off the train, his fate was worse than death, but he survived – minus an arm and his memories. His memories were coming back to him and Tony had replaced his metal arm with one much the same, but tell Tony that and he’ll explain the difference in a language only Bruce can understand. Apparently it was still English, but Steve wasn’t convinced.

It had been so long since Steve had felt the warmth that was Bucky pressed up against him, so long since they’d shared a room and a bed. Now they didn’t even live in the same part of New York. Steve was still in Brooklyn, trying to keep something the same in this ever changing world, whereas Bucky was living in the Avengers Tower, which he didn’t really mind if he was being honest. It was free, the food was good and it meant he didn’t have to travel far for his therapy sessions. 

Steve sighed, sinking further into his armchair beside the record player. The crooning voice reminded him of Bucky singing sweetly in his ear. He wanted to experience it one more time, and what was stopping him? Bucky was alive and he might remember that night, if not he always was up for a dance. What did he have to lose? Well, other than the one thing that mattered more to him than anything – their newly reclaimed friendship. If he didn’t have that, what did he have? He always said even when he had nothing, he had Bucky.

No, he wouldn’t over analyse this. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Bucky. He had – like Steve – been issued with one by Agent Coulson on one of his first days back with them. Bucky wasn’t as shocked by them as Steve had expected, but HYDRA probably would’ve introduced them to him when they needed a way of contacting him on mission. Bucky didn’t say, he just accepted it and made sure he had the numbers he needed. 

“Hey Steve, what’s up?” The familiar voice at the other end grounded his thoughts. “Hey Buck, I – uh – you’re not busy, are you?” Why was he so nervous? It’s not like he was asking him on a date. But he kind of was.

“Nah, I’m just at the range with Clint. The kid’s a pretty good shot but he’s still only second best in the Tower.” He joked. “Why?”

“I was just wonderin’ if you maybe wanted to come over for a while. I got a couple new records today I think you’d like. I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He was tracing circles into the arm of the chair, hoping his nerves didn’t come out in his voice. He never expected it to be this hard, it was just as bad as the first time he tried to ask a girl out, if not worse.

“Are you kiddin’? I’ll be over in a half hour, Clint needs the practise anyway.” And with that Bucky hung up. 

He had all of thirty minutes before he was more than likely going to embarrass himself. He stood up, steadying himself on the table. He took a deep breath, relaxing as he worked out a game plan in his head. Turning off the record he decided a shower was a good place to start. He took his time, letting the hot water work out the tension in his muscles. 

After about twenty minutes, Steve was back in the living room with a level head. They were just two friends going to listen to some records, maybe they’d dance, maybe they wouldn’t. He was still running over possible eventualities while he put away his new records. Should he plan for dancing? He didn’t want to pressure Bucky into it, because as independent and stubborn as he was, he’d do almost anything for Steve and never wanted to let him down. 

Steve was still moving furniture to create a large space in the room, and moving it back deciding it was stupid, then moving it again, when he heard a soft thud coming from his bedroom. 

He grabbed his shield from where it sat against the wall and stalked towards the other room. His stance was much the same as it was in combat, his knees bent, centre of gravity lowered. He was ready to pounce on the intruder when he saw a glimpse of metal.

“Bucky?” He said as he flicked on the light, relaxing his stance and frowning at his friend. 

“What? I’m not late, am I?” He smiled back at Steve as he finished undoing his boots and slipped them off. 

“Why did you-”, he sighed, “there’s a door for a reason.” He set down his shield, slightly embarrassed he was so close to attacking his best friend. 

“C’mon Stevie, lighten up.”, Bucky laughed as he walked over to Steve. “Besides, if I use the door I don’t get the chance to sneak up on you.” He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder, not mentioning the fact that he was avoiding the little kid from down the hall that had a fascination with his metal arm and kept trying to touch it. 

Steve smiled and loosened up at the contact, moving into the living room. “So, some records. That’s what it takes to get you to call me nowadays.” Bucky called out from behind him, the grin apparent in his tone. Steve shot him a withering look and shook his head. “You’re still a jerk.” 

“And you’re still a punk.” Bucky crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe, watching as Steve set the needle back on the record. As sound flooded the apartment, Bucky’s face fell into a crooked smile. Steve couldn’t help but stare.

“I remember this.” Bucky whispered after a moment. Steve crossed the distance between them, placing a hand on Bucky’s elbow, pale flesh exposed where his sleeves were pushed up. “What do you remember?” He asked gently, trying to meet Bucky’s gaze. “I remember my mom. She loved this song. She used to sing it to me and-” His eyes dropped to the floor, and was that a blush Steve could see blossoming on his cheeks? He couldn’t remember Bucky blushing. Ever. 

“I remember us.” He said after a long pause, looking back up at Steve with something somewhere between confusion and worry in his eyes. Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. A grin settled on his face, Bucky remembered that night.

Bucky more than remembered it. He could feel it. How Steve felt in his arms, the way his heart raced when Steve pressed his head against his chest. How his breath caught when Steve looked at him right before his attack. If he didn’t know better he would’ve said Steve was about to kiss him. But that couldn’t be right, could it? 

Steve pulled him out of his thoughts by stepping closer. “You taught me to dance to this very song.” Bucky straightened up, unfolding his arms and letting them fall to his sides. “You’re a great dancer, Buck.” Steve gave him a loving smile and took his metal hand in his own, pulling him over to the dance floor he’d created. “I was a great dancer.” He corrected. “You weren’t too bad, if I remember correctly.” He retreated back behind his confident mask, trying to hide from Steve just how shaken he was. But Steve easily saw through it. Steve’s smile faltered, “Listen, Buck, you don’t need to – we don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. I just thought you might like to. You used to love dancing.” He let go of Bucky’s hand, turning away and rubbing the back of his neck. Bucky reached out to Steve, gripping his shoulder, “Hey, that’s not – I do want to, Steve, it’s just,” he gave a small, self-deprecating laugh, “I’m just not used to remembering, I guess. I’d like to dance, if you still want to.”

Bucky let go of his shoulder, opting for just holding his hand out in invitation. His metal hand. What was he doing? He hated people touching it, well everyone but Steve and he was used to Tony fiddling with it on a regular basis. There was just something about Steve that made him forget the way he felt about his arm, that made him treat it just the same as he did when it still had blood pulsing through it. To Bucky it was a weapon. Even after it was replaced, it was still a reminder of what he’d done and who he was. To Steve it was just a new part of Bucky’s anatomy. That’s not to say he didn’t find it fascinating and a little unnerving at times – like when he accidentally pulled a door off its hinges shortly after Tony fitted his new arm. 

Steve turned back to face Bucky, taking his cool metal hand in his own. Bucky pulled him closer, placing his other hand on his hip, just like he had all those years before. Steve smiled down at him, his free hand moving to Bucky’s shoulder. 

Everything about it was familiar but completely different at the same time. Bucky still lead the movement, Steve still tripped over their feet to begin with, although this time it nearly sent the two of them crashing to the ground. Steve was a few inches taller than Bucky now, and quite a bit more muscular. That’s not to say that Bucky wasn’t fit, he was perfectly toned, Steve’s muscles were simply more defined.

“Y’know, we’re kinda doing this wrong.” Bucky said with a smile, causing Steve to look up a little from their feet to his face. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well you’re bigger now, so you should be leading, Captain.” Bucky’s smile grew into his trademark smirk. Steve frowned for a second, but it’s hard to not smile with the look on the other man’s face. 

“That’s a bad idea, Buck, I can hardly dance as it is.” His grip on Bucky’s shoulder tightened playfully, just enough to hurt.

“Maybe I want to see you struggle with something for a change.” Bucky dug his nails into Steve’s hip in retaliation. Steve shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as he did.

“If you want it that bad, then you can be the dame for once.” Bucky snorted a short laugh as he snaked his hand up to Steve’s shoulder, tracing each muscle, never losing contact. Steve replicated his movement, trailing his hand down Bucky’s side ever so softly. He pulled him closer, pushing his hand around to the centre of his back, slipping below Bucky’s shirt. Bucky gave a content sigh, letting his eyes fall shut and moving his own arm so that he cupped Steve’s shoulder from behind, nuzzling into his neck. Steve thought it shouldn’t have been that easy, shouldn’t have felt so right, but after all they’d gone through he was past caring. He let his cheek rest on the other man’s hair.

“Did you ever get to dance with that Agent?” Bucky’s breath was warm on his neck as he spoke. His lips brushed against Steve’s skin, each touch electric. “What was her name? Patty? No, Peggy. That’s it. Peggy Carter.”

“Uh, no, we didn’t get the chance.” Steve tensed up, Bucky felt it. He rubbed circles into Steve’s shoulder in an attempt to relax him. “I wasn’t around for much longer after you…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish. Bucky pulled back just enough to see his face. “Steve-” He whispered, hand moving to cup his cheek. Steve’s eyes were fixed to the floor, the shame apparent in the lines of his face. He raised his eyes to meet Bucky’s. He could see the pain in them. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry. I know what I did was stupid and reckless, but I couldn’t…” Live in a world without you, he thought. Bucky’s eyes were glassy, his face crumpled as he curled both his arms around Steve’s neck. His face was pressed against his neck, metal hand in his hair, warm where it had been in Steve’s hold. The blond man lost all composure he had left, arms wrapping around Bucky, holding him as tightly as he dared.

“Stevie, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promised I’d protect you and I didn’t.” He was shaking, his voice breaking on the last word. “I said I’d be with you ‘til the end of the line and I left you alone. I failed, Stevie, one job and I failed.”

“Don’t ever talk like that. You didn’t fail.” His voice was hard, rougher than intended. He took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone. “You might not have been there for all the stops, but it’s not over yet. You pulled me out of the water, Bucky, you saved me.”

“I tried to kill you.” Bucky choked out.

“Bucky, that wasn’t you.” Steve pushed him back, hands firm on Bucky’s hips. “Stop blaming yourself for what happened.” He kept his eyes locked on Bucky’s, his gaze gentle and loving. He smiled fondly at Bucky as he brushed away his tears with his thumb, cupping his cheek in the process. 

Bucky still had one hand in Steve’s hair, the other resting on his shoulder. The way Steve was looking at him with pure adoration made something burn inside him, made him feel alive, human. What he felt for him all those years ago seemed like a mere shadow to what he felt now. 

He still felt the raw, clawing feeling of failure in his chest, but he felt like Steve was the one person who could numb the pain. Steve could fix it. He could fix everything.

A smile broke his lips as his hand carded through Steve’s hair. “You always were too good for me, kid.” he muttered fondly, more to himself than to the other man. “I always thought the same about you, Buck.” came the reply. 

Bucky couldn’t help the way his breathing hitched as Steve’s gaze flicked down to his lips, eyes dark when they met his own. Steve licked his lips, giving Bucky all the courage he needed. Bucky moved closer. Closer than they’d ever been. His left leg was between Steve’s, the hand that was on his shoulder now fisting the front of Steve’s shirt. Their noses just a hair’s width apart. Bucky closed his eyes and leaned in. 

It was only a brief brush of his lips against Steve’s, but it lit a fire across Steve’s skin, his eyes fluttering shut. As Bucky pulled back, Steve tilted his head for a better angle and reconnected the contact. 

He’d been waiting years for this, and it showed. Bucky jerked back a little, surprised by Steve’s force, but then put in just as much passion as Steve, tongue playing at the blond’s lips until he parted them, deepening the kiss. 

Pulling back reluctantly, Steve rested their foreheads together as he caught his breath. The two of them were smiling, the way they hadn’t done in years. Decades had passed since they last felt completely happy, since they last felt whole. But now with Bucky in his arms, Steve felt like if the world ended tomorrow, he’d be okay with that.

Steve closed his eyes as Bucky kissed him again, softer this time, as though he might break the other man if he was a little too rough. He kissed him the way he’d dreamed about since the first time he kissed a girl. It was so much better than it had been in his dreams, everything was worlds away from what he imagined. 

“How long have we wasted pretending we were just friends?” Bucky asked, breaking the kiss and pulling away just enough to see his closed eyes. As he opened them, Steve murmured, “Too long, Buck. Way too long.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ohnatasharomanoff.tumblr.com for being my beta and answering a bunch of stupid questions


End file.
